


Steam

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“‘Exactly how long does it take you to get clean?’” Giriko wakes up earlier than usual and interrupts Justin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiny_Pichu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiny_Pichu/gifts).



Giriko doesn’t know what woke him up at first. The bed is warm and big enough, now that the priest has absented himself, and no one’s shaking him or yelling and he’s got multiple blankets pulled up around his ears, and from the way his body feels he shouldn’t be properly awake for another few hours. He groans to himself and rolls over and wiggles down into the blankets, trying to drown out the sound of running water.

Running water. That means the shower’s on.

Giriko sits up as the epiphany hits, tossing the blankets back with no regard for the loss of heat and making for the bathroom. When he gets the door open he’s hit with a wave of steam that nearly makes up for the exit from the bed; Justin’s been in here long enough that the entire room is a haze, mirror entirely unusable from the condensation across it. Not that it matters, Giriko’s not particularly looking to  _see_  himself.

“Giriko?” The priest sounds normal, like it’s not a ridiculous hour of the morning to be up. “Are you awake?”

“Who else do you think it is?” Giriko snaps as he peels off the t-shirt he slept in and slides his boxers free of his hips.

“Mm,” Justin offers. “An intruder seemed more likely than you getting out of bed at this hour.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“You should join me since you’re here.”

“You must have been in there for an hour,” Giriko says by way of a response as he comes across the floor. “Exactly how long does it take you to get clean?” He pulls back the curtain and water splashes across the tile floor. Justin looks and hisses in irritation, grabs at Giriko’s arm to pull him into the spray, but Giriko looks at Justin and stalls out for a minute.

It’s one thing to get the priest in his usual robes. That has the familiarity of routine, at least, and it’s always fun to unwrap him from the disguising layers. Casual is much more rare and harder to handle; when Justin decides to wander around the house in Giriko’s t-shirts (skin-tight on Giriko, oversized on Justin) and jeans neither of them get very much done. But entirely naked is  _extremely_  rare -- even when he sets out to strip the blond down Giriko rarely manages to get all of Justin’s clothes off before losing focus -- and so exciting the chainsaw’s morning wood is coming back before he’s even really touched Justin. The priest is spitting like a cat, dragging Giriko in bodily and yanking the curtain back into place, and his blue eyes are dark with anger but he’s all lean muscle under cream-pale skin. His yellow hair is slicked back against his forehead and the water from the shower is tracing paths along his chest and arms that Giriko’s eyes follow without the chainsaw’s deliberation.

“ _Fuck_  Giriko,” Justin is saying, when Giriko bothers to half-listen. “Give me some warning at least so we can avoid an actual swimming pool on the floor.”

Giriko bares his teeth in what could be taken as a smile and shakes his arm free of Justin’s hold before he reaches out to interrupt the flow of water along the priest’s hips. He looks back up to Justin’s face in time to see those eyes flick downward to his rising cock, that throat work before the priest controls his face and lifts his eyes, pale with deliberate distance again, to Giriko’s face.

“Did you want something?”

He sounds calm but Giriko knows what he saw, that momentarily loss of control on the blond’s face. It doesn’t matter much anyway; he steps in closer, until his cock hits Justin’s flat stomach, and sets his mouth against the wet blond hair. “Noticed that, did you.”

Justin laughs but doesn’t bring his hands up from his sides yet. “And me just now clean too.”

“Yeah, all pure and pristine.” Giriko grins and pulls at the edge of Justin’s ear with his teeth. “All ready for despoiling.” His fingers curl tight and he tugs so Justin comes forward the last half-step; he can feel the priest getting hard without looking down. He chuckles against Justin’s ear, pulls his head back to glance sideways at the blond’s face. Justin is staring straight ahead over Giriko’s shoulder, but his mouth is just open and his chin is down, and Giriko has a good idea he’s not really seeing anything at all. “You like that, don’t you?”

Justin turns his head, catches Giriko watching him, rolls his eyes ostentatiously. “Don’t make me out to be your kinky sex toy.”

Giriko growls and shoves back. Justin loses his balance on the slippery footing and falls hard into the wall, knocking the bottle of shampoo off the railing. He would go down entirely but for Giriko’s grip on his hips and his own desperate grab, which finally brings his hands up to clutch at Giriko’s neck and arm. He’s glaring before he’s regained his balance, seething up at Giriko. The chainsaw grins sharp and angry and presses in so Justin is pinned between his body and the wall. The priest lets his hold go but doesn’t move his hands, and there is a flicker of motion as his eyes drop to Giriko’s mouth instead of his eyes. Giriko can see him swallow again, water trickling across the shift in his throat, and he’s still getting harder against the chainsaw’s leg.

“Oh come on,” Giriko purrs. He comes in close, follows a fall of water up Justin’s collarbone to his neck with his tongue. “Do you think you’re  _not_?”

Justin hisses and shoves but Giriko is expecting the push, holds on and stays still and laughs, and when he shifts his hips to grind them against each other Justin takes a sucking inhale and stops pushing.

“How long does it *take* you to shower, anyway?” Giriko asks, sliding a hand up over Justin’s ribcage. Justin shivers, sighs, hesitates, and then he looks up through his lashes and smiles, all pleasure and amusement now.

“Not this long,” he says, and Giriko meets him halfway with both their mouths wet from the spray of water. Between the shower and Justin’s mouth everything is hot and wet and slippery, and for a minute it’s enough to have the warm water collecting between their bodies while Justin’s tongue slides against Giriko’s and trails want in its wake. Then Giriko lets Justin’s hip go, reaches down to wrap his fingers entirely around the priest’s hard cock, and Justin chokes and loses his composure.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says intelligibly, and Giriko laughs and pulls hard against him without consideration for the excess of friction. Justin inhales sharply and his fingers go tight with a shiver of pain, but blood is rising to his face and his eyes are closing as his mouth drops open. Giriko lets his gaze linger against Justin’s cheek and mouth and damp eyelashes, keeps pumping his hand so he can watch the flicker of reaction all across the priest’s face in time with the movement of his fingers. Justin is clutching at his neck, involuntarily judging from the expression on his face, and when Giriko lets his hold go those damn eyes open and fix on his face with no trace of their usual restraint.

“What are you --” Justin starts, but Giriko doesn’t wait for the end of the sentence, just pushes back so Justin is flush with the wall again and comes down so he’s got a knee down on the floor of the shower. It’s not at all comfortable, he’s pretty sure if he stays like this very long he’ll have bruises across his knees, but he doesn’t have any intention of doing this for any extended period.

When he closes his mouth around Justin’s cock the priest moans high and Giriko can hear his head hit the wall of the shower -- when he looks up through the haze of steam Justin’s got his head tipped back and water splashing down along the curve of his throat. Giriko considers coming back up to lick the moisture off the priest’s skin, but when he brings his mouth in farther he can see the vibration of Justin’s groan along that arc and determines to stay where he is.

Justin  _never_  holds still for blowjobs, and this is no exception in spite of the slippery footing. His hands end up slicking through Giriko’s hair, spreading water evenly through the partially-damp strands, and Giriko can tell when he leans back in instead of away from the way the fall of water against his own skin starts to collect into streams off Justin’s shoulders and hair instead of the even spray from the shower itself. When he looks up again Justin’s eyes are wide and clear, his mouth still open like he can’t remember how to close it, and every breath is a moan or a gasp in the back of his throat.

The priest doesn’t last very long -- he doesn’t have much stamina to begin with, and Giriko knows perfectly well this is his primary weakness. He can feel Justin’s fingers clenching desperate in his hair, can hear the whine of need in those half-voiced breaths, and when Justin tries to edge impossibly closer Giriko ducks in so the the priest’s leg ends up over his shoulder and he’s supporting half the blond’s weight as he moves. It’s for the best, as it turns out -- when Giriko comes in all the way and sucks hard Justin wails and arches back as he comes, and from the way he jerks against the wall he would have fallen but for the support of Giriko’s shoulder under his hips.

Giriko waits until Justin’s breathing has steadied from moans into gasps to pull back and shift out from under the priest so he can spit into the shower spray. His knee  _is_  bruised, it feels like -- he gets to his feet carefully and grimaces at the ache -- but Justin is leaning against the wall of the shower like he can’t manage to support his weight and smiling dreamily like he has everything he could want, and when his eyes focus on Giriko and that smile stays it seems like a fair trade.

Nearly fair, anyway. Giriko grins and steps in close so he can press his cock against Justin’s hip, and the priest drops his weight sideways and angles so he can press back. He reaches up to drape his arms across Giriko’s shoulders and comes in to sigh into the chainsaw’s ear.

“Thank you.” He manages to make the words sound like an invitation, all dark and smoky in his mouth.

“Just buttering you up to get what I want,” Giriko says by way of response, and Justin laughs and that’s drenched in suggestion too.

“Giriko.”

“What?” Giriko is breathing in the steam off Justin’s shoulder, trailing his hands up along Justin’s spine and down to his ass.

Justin exhales shakily into Giriko’s ear and grinds forward against the chainsaw. “ _Fuck_  me.”

Giriko chokes. This close Justin has to feel the rush of blood that makes his cock jump, but the priest just laughs and angles in  _closer_ when Giriko didn’t think that was possible.

“Yeah,” Giriko finally manages. It sounds strained but it’s hard to think, much less speak. “Yeah, okay.” He closes his hands at Justin’s waist, shoves the priest back against the wall, and exerts all of his willpower to step back. “Just stay here.”

He doesn’t wait for agreement before he gets out of the shower, doesn’t pause at Justin’s yelp of protest as another splash of water hits the floor behind him. He trails water all across the floor of the bathroom and into the bedroom, but at least he knows right where to go and comes straight back.

Justin has regained enough of his composure to roll his eyes when Giriko gets back in, but not enough yet to actually complain about the now-inevitable splash onto the floor. Giriko squeezes lube onto his fingers from the bottle before setting it precariously on the shelf in the shower and reaching out for Justin’s skin.

“Turn around,” he says, but he’s stepping in at the same time Justin moves so they slide together for a minute before Justin is reaching out to brace himself against the wall and dipping his head so the water cascades down the line of his spine. Giriko reaches out to spread his fingers along that path, watches the water separate into a spray around his hand, and slides his other hand down Justin’s ass to push a half-slippery finger inside the priest. Justin rocks forward and exhales at the intrusion but he’s smiling, his eyes shut under the water, and when Giriko slides his finger out and pushes back in the sound he makes is a lot closer to a moan than just a sigh.

They have enough experience now that it doesn’t take much, even with the counteracting effect of the water on the lube itself. Justin is breathing hard by the time Giriko’s got two fingers inside him, and the chainsaw doesn’t have much of his frayed patience left by then anyway. Giriko’s hand is washed clean by that point, so it takes another round of lube and some creative angling to get his cock slippery enough, but then he turns back and Justin’s just  _waiting_ , back arched and arms braced against the wall, and Giriko makes a raw noise of satisfaction in his throat and steps forward. There’s still that haze of steam and the water is splashing all across Giriko’s arms and Justin’s shoulders and back, but Giriko doesn’t really need to see to line himself up, and when he thrusts forward Justin shoves back so his whole cock slides into Justin’s ass in a single motion between the two of them.

Giriko exhales and it sounds like a groan, and Justin sucks in a breath damp from the water, and they both go still for a moment. Then Giriko settles his hold on Justin’s hips, and Justin drops his head down again, and when the chainsaw pulls out to thrust forward again he can see the force of his movement in the priest’s shoulders. The angle is much better than on his knees -- Giriko can just hold Justin still and thrust forward, and he’s not sure that the curve of Justin’s back is particularly comfortable but it  _is_  damn hot. He lets go with one hand to grab at Justin’s wet hair and pull back, and Justin gives in to the pressure without protest, and when he moans now it sounds strained in his throat and gets a responding grunt from Giriko.

It all blurs into a hazy wash of pleasure after a minute -- the feel of Justin around his cock, the sound of Justin’s strained breathing over the splash of the water, the way the water curls along Justin’s spine until it hits Giriko himself. Giriko goes slow, for once, savoring the heat and the friction and the whimper-gasp of Justin’s inhales until it’s too much, until he has to let Justin’s hair go and brace himself for the shiver-heat of orgasm to hit.

Justin is still while the wave of pleasure breaks over Giriko, stays where he is until the chainsaw sighs and slides out and lets him go. Then he shivers, and straightens, and Giriko comes back in to press against his spine. Justin sighs at the contact, and Giriko laughs and reaches down to Justin’s hard cock.

“Damn,” he purrs, slow and heavy with satisfaction against Justin’s neck. “You know sometimes I  _love_  that you’re seventeen.”

Justin laughs, shaky and trembling, and when Giriko closes his fingers hard around his cock he gasps and tips his head back to rest on the chainsaw’s shoulder. He brings a hand up to curl around the back of Giriko’s neck, and Giriko grips his hip with his free hand to hold him steady, and pulls hard and fast so Justin’s knees give out and he is supporting the priest’s weight for a moment.

Justin doesn’t even try to talk; he seems to be reduced to gasps and whimpers, but Giriko can understand that better than the priest’s words most of the time. He braces the blond back against him and tightens his grip until Justin inhales right at the edge of pain, and pumps his hand over the priest’s cock until the blond can’t breathe either and is just hyperventilating and leaning all his weight back against the chainsaw. The angle he’s at Giriko can feel him going tense, feels the release through his body even before Justin sighs and comes over his fingers.

The priest doesn’t move for a minute, just leans back against Giriko’s chest and breathes, slow and sighing with satisfaction. Giriko turns his head to look at Justin’s face and the blond blinks his eyes open and smiles at him.

“Now I’ll have to wash all over again,” he sighs dramatically.

Giriko barks a laugh and drags his hand up Justin’s side to dig into his waist. “Yeah. Real shame, that.”

“You should be sorry,” Justin observes.

“Hm.” Giriko makes a show of considering it. “Yeah, you know, I’m really not feeling it.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.” Justin smiles, and blinks his dripping eyelashes, and leans in to press his mouth against Giriko’s damp neck.


End file.
